I Should Go
by Eomer'sFaelwen
Summary: While sailing to Neverland, Killian is forced to break down the walls he has held up for so long. Based on the song "I Should Go" by Levi Kreis. Listen to the song while reading the fic: /watch?v gD7EzKpiFrQ


The island was looming ever closer, filling up more and more of the horizon with each passing moment. Killian's mood had been souring steadily since it had been sighted. When they had come through the other side of the portal, they had been an ocean away from the island of Neverland. He had blamed in on the untrustworthy nature of portals, and had hidden the truth of it from them. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to do it, but he had deliberately steered the Jolly Roger in the wrong direction. If he'd been so inclined, he could have brought the ship to the glassy surface of the natural harbor on the island. But he hadn't.

_You could join us._

He stood at the helm, guiding the ship as he always had. The wood of the wheel had been worn smooth by his fingers over the three hundred years he had been captain. He slid his good hand over the handles, closing his eyes and allowing his fingers to trace the grain of the wood. He breathed in the salt air, felt the spray of the sea on his face. It was all he had ever known; all he'd ever wanted to know or imagined knowing. Somehow though, it didn't hold the same allure anymore.

_You could be a part of something._

The wood became her skin. The misty spray became gentle strands of her golden hair. The smell of the sea transformed to the sweet scent of her. She surrounded him. She was everywhere all at once.

_Or you could do what you do best..._

Her laugh forced his eyes open. He found her leaning against the rail, allowing the wind to catch her hair and blow it where it would. She was smiling, as was her father who was standing next to her, a protective arm wrapped around her shoulder.

..._and be alone._

He dropped his eyes, not wanting to look anymore. She had done something to him. The very moment he has lifted his eyes and found her face for the very first time, she had changed him, irrevocably.

For years he had felt nothing but a crushing desperation. It was a burden, this revenge he carried, and yet he had never set it down.

But now, all at once, he had.

In its place had leapt a new sensation. One that he wasn't sure he preferred. Her effect on him had always been dulled; even her bright light hadn't been enough to break through his heavily built walls. But now, it was all he could feel..._she_ was all he could feel.

In a sudden moment of crushing honesty, he knew that it had been the thought of her that had made him turn the ship off course. He'd brought them this far from their destination to linger here with her that much longer. In the moment, it had seemed an appealing option, but now, all he wanted was to get as far away from her as possible. This newfound pain was more hurt that he could bear. It brought up feelings that he had thought long dead; feelings that he knew now were only dormant.

His eyes fell shut again, and images danced across the sun-brightened skin of his eyelids.

Her hand resting on his shoulder.

The first smile he'd allowed to cross his lips in more years than he could count.

The fluttering of her eyelids as he bandaged her hand.

The sound of her voice as she shouted his name.

The feel of her hand in his own.

The moment of betrayal.

The brief flicker of hope in her eyes when she saw him again.

The bean.

The hand at the side of the road.

...it hurt too much.

"Hook?"

A hand on his shoulder gave him what was meant to be a reassuring squeeze. Instead, it only broke him further.

"Get off me," he said, shrugging her off and turning away.

"But I just...Hook what's wrong?"

His moniker on her lips cut through him just as effectively as if she had used the instrument itself. He cringed when she said it, feeling the pain more acutely than before. What in the name of the gods had she done to him?

"Hook?"

Another wince. His only comfort was that she didn't know.

"I should go," he muttered, not caring whether she had heard him over the rush of the waves. He turned and slipped a knotted rope over the handle of the wheel to keep the ship on course, and turned to walk away. He heard her take a tentative step behind him, and hastened his steps so that she would not follow.

The darkness swallowed him as he descended the steps to his quarters. He closed the glass doors behind him, leaning up against them as the first tear spilled onto his cheek. He hadn't felt anything in so damn long. All at once, he found himself adrift in a sea he hadn't sailed before. The current pulled him under, drowning him more effectively than water ever could.

His knees gave way beneath him, sinking his shuddering form to the floor. He brought his palm up to rest his forehead on and gave himself to the darkness that swirled around him. Pictures of Milah swam in front of his eyes, each one washing away as the tears slid down his cheeks. It had always hurt to remember her, but never this much. Never this pain. But suddenly, he understood why.

He was finally allowing himself to say goodbye.

The pain crested then, battering him all the more for that one realization. For a desperate moment, he tried to battle the storm that raged within him; a hopeless bid to hold on to her as he had for too many years. But the tears would not slow, his breath would not return, and he gave in once more, bracing himself as best he could for the rest of the unending torrent.

Three hundred years...

Letting go isn't easy...

Every lingering glance lasts longer...

Each touch leaves it's own indelible mark...

And every moment, every hour, becomes a precious treasure...

He lifted his eyes, realizing that the tears had long stopped, his breath no longer coming in ragged gasps. There, in the fading light that filtered through the windowpane, stood Milah. He looked at her, drinking in her every feature, creating a memory that would last him forever. Her eyes caught his own, and she smiled, a mixture of sadness and love shining in her eyes.

"I should go," she whispered, her voice echoing about him. She turned to the light, whose last rays here beginning to slip below the horizon in the distance.

"I love you," he choked out, tears springing to his eyes once more.

She smiled once more, the fading light reflected in her laughing eyes.

"I know."

As the final gleam of light disappeared into that unreachable place where sea met sky, she slipped away, taking the weight of three hundred year's grief with her.

Killian stood and crossed to the window, watching as the first star took its place in the sky. He reached up and wiped one final tear from his cheek as a quiet sense of peace stole over him. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs for what seemed like the first time, and turned from the window.

He crossed to the doors of his cabin, opening the latch to find Emma, fist raised as if she were about to knock. He paused and lowered his eyes, not wanting her to see his private grief. He pushed past her, intent on making his way to the helm of his ship, needing to feel the reassuring wood of the wheel beneath his fingertips.

"I just wanted to check...on...you," she began, faltering as he brushed past her.

He paused, having only taken two steps beyond her. His eyes closed for a moment as he debated what to do. He turned around to face her, and took a step back towards her. Confusion flashed in her eyes as she took in his appearance. She searched his eyes, concern clear upon her face.

His eyes flitted down to a lock of hair that had fallen over her shoulder, and he smiled at the memory it brought fourth. He reached a cautious hand forward, brushing it behind her shoulder. As his hand retraced its path, he allowed his fingers to brush against her cheek for the briefest moment.

He turned away, climbing into the dusky night. As he settled himself behind the wheel, his eyes found the star near the horizon that had been the first to appear. A sad smile graced his lips as he looked at the star. It would always be there, he knew; a small reminder always there to guide him. But there was another, brighter star that he would navigate by, and from now on, he would allow it to shine bright, chasing the remaining darkness from his life, and bringing back the light.


End file.
